


please let me help you

by emptymasks



Series: i dreamt about you last night and i fell out of bed twice [4]
Category: House M.D.
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Arguing, Boss/Employee Relationship, Chronic Pain, Cutting, Depression, Detox, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode Related, Episode Tag, Episode: s03e10 Merry Little Christmas, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Heavy Angst, Hospitalization, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Missing Scene, Older Man/Younger Man, Overdosing, Panic Attacks, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2021-02-13 06:08:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21489607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emptymasks/pseuds/emptymasks
Summary: "The fact that you threw your bag on the floor makes me think you haven't brought me vicodin.""I, I couldn't. House, you know I don't want you in pain, but you need to try and fight this, the withdrawal I mean, but also Tritter. He sees you like this, the court sees you like this, and you're proving him right.""So that's no vicodin.""No.""Pity, could have helped with the pain in my arm.""The pain in your-? What did you do?!"
Relationships: Robert Chase/Greg House
Series: i dreamt about you last night and i fell out of bed twice [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1547803
Comments: 7
Kudos: 102





	please let me help you

Waking up in House's apartment while snow rained down outside was a surreal experience. Of course Chase had hoped their relationship would work, but he didn't dare hope for too much when it came to House. And yet here they were, or here Chase was. The other side of the bed was annoyingly empty.

He slunk out of bed and found House already dressed and tying his shoes.

"Are you... already heading out?" Chase asked as he wiped sleep from his eyes.

"I'm going to defrost the car because, in case you haven't realised, it's snowing outside."

"But defrosting the car takes what fifteen minutes at most?"

"Yep." House said popping the 'p' at the end of the word. Chase was not having a good feeling about this.

"You uh... planning on going in early today?"

"Nope."

"And you knew I was coming back to work today?" Cuddy had told him he could take a couple days off if he wanted, she clearly didn't want to risk filing for assault. He had no intention of trying to sue, but taking a couple days off meant he and House could work at what had happened between them and he could keep a closer eye on House's pain management.

"Yep."

Chase stared at House, who had the audacity to grin and stare at his bare chest (so he hadn't slept with a shirt on, it was not that big of a deal). "Bloody hell, fuck you House," He called over his shoulder as he frantically got dressed and made at least the a basic attempt to wash himself. At least there were staff showers in the hospital. "Why didn't you wake me up?!" He yelled from the bathroom.

"Well were you getting your beauty sleep, and you clearly normally get lots and lots of it."

"See," Chase's brain processed House's weird compliment. "You say that like it's a sarcastic insult but all you did was call me very, very pretty." He retorted and _didn't_ turn away from the mirror when he noticed red creeping into his cheeks. It was not that easy to make him blush okay? He just wasn't used to compliments from House, he'd probably get used to them eventually and then he wouldn't blush all the time... right? He tilted his head to the side to inspect the purple bruise on the side of his jaw. House hadn't looked at his face for any time longer than a few seconds since the evidence of him punching Chase in the face had really bloomed. He kept looking like he wanted to apologise again and that was a bizarre look to see on House.

He jumped as a horn went off and how the hell did House already get out there so quickly? He grabbed a tie and jacket and threw them over his bag, he could put them on in the car, and almost tripped over his untied shoes as he turned around from locking the front door.

"We ready to go sleeping beauty?" House smirked at him as he got in the car.

"Please, just wake me up when you get up in future."

\-----

"How's your face?" Foreman asked as Chase sat down and joined him and Cameron at the table in their little meeting room adjoining House's office.

"It's fine. All it is is a bruise."

"The damage is purely... cosmetic?" Cameron asked and Chase nodded. "Well, that must still hurt for you." Foreman chuckled and Chase glared at Cameron but he smiled. Maybe it would be nice to act like nothing had happened.

"What do you think House is going to do about Tritter? I mean, he has to stop him, right?" Or Cameron could bring that dickhead back up.

"Who knows, now that Wilson's been speaking to Tritter-"

"Wilson's been speaking to Tritter?" Chase interrupted Foreman

"Santa needs us," House entered the meeting room like it was any other day, and Chase was thankful even as he dodged out of the way of the file House threw at him.

"You get that looked at?" House sat down and nodded towards his jaw. Chase hesitated for a second before his sleepy brain reminded him they were still keeping the relationship secret for now. "I'm fine."

"Great," House's gaze lingered on him for a moment. "I just admitted a cartilage hair hypoplasia dwarf, 15 years old-"

"What are you going to do?" Cameron said.

"I thought I'd get your theories, mock them, then embrace my own. The usual."

"Wilson told us he ratted," Foreman confessed. Wilson ratted out House? Their first thought was to suspect Chase and then House's best friend goes and commits the backstabbing.

House pursed his lips. "Your choice of verb I take it?"

"It's appropriate, he betrayed you. And you should take the deal."

"Unexplained lung collapse and anaemia," House of course steamrollered over what Foreman was saying. "Cuddy thinks it's idiopathic, 'Cuddy' and 'idiop' being the relevant parts of that sentence."

"Well, I'd say TB but Cuddy's already ruled it out," Chase spoke up, eager to keep the conversation on the topic of the patient.

"Then you'd be just as big an idiop as her. Don't you people know your dwarfs?" It was stupid and sensitive for the insults to still sting a little, but only a little. They'd been at this long enough for Chase to come to terms with if House really believed he was an idiot or a bad doctor he wouldn't still be working for him.

"There are over 200 varieties of dwarfism, each with different medical complications; you can't expect us to be intimately familiar with all of them."

"The sick dwarfs sure expect you to," House pulled one of his faces and Chase made sure he didn't look amused.

"Cartilage hair hypoplasia, they have compromised immune systems," Cameron offered.

"Gold star for Cameron, for extra credit explain to the special needs section of the class why our patient's negative TB test is irrelevant."

"A PPD involves planting a fragment of TB under the skin to see if the immune system recognises it, because of her compromised immune system, our patient could have TB but not recognise it."

"The little people love you," House got up and Cameron grimaced or really smiled, Chase couldn't tell. "Let's go see a dwarf about a gallium scan."

\-----

There wasn't anything on the scans no matter how much House could ask them to look at them. Which, annoyingly, probably meant something was actually there. Chase knew this dance by now.

"House we need to talk," Cuddy entered the room and Chase's mind was already starting to imagine what ways House's legal case could be going wrong.

"Not taking the deal. Glad we talked. Ultrasound her liver," He waved his hands to motion that the three of them should leave.

Deal? Was there a new deal on the table?

"Sit down," Cuddy ordered.

"Stand up," House joked and turned to look at Cuddy. "Your turn."

"House, you're off the case. Your treatment privileges are suspended until you accept Tritter's deal."

She couldn't be serious?

"Well I'm obviously not going to take the deal just so I can have the fun of treating a dwarf so I assume there's more to this threat."

"I'm also cutting off your vicodin."

Oh no.

"That could work."

"I'm taking over as attending. Get an MRI of her lungs."

"This is not lung cancer."

"We'll find out as soon as we _MRI her lungs_." Cuddy turned to stare at Chase and the others and pointed them out of the room. Chase got up and followed Cameron and Foreman, glancing back to look at House as they left.

"You're going to come begging me to save this girl long before I come begging you for pills." He heard House say as he moved further down the corridor. Cuddy really was serious then. Could she not remember what House had been like every time in the past he hadn't had vicodin. If he's going to come off it should be on his own terms and it shouldn't be sudden surprise cold turkey. He had a churning feeling in his stomach this wasn't going to end well.

\-----

"This is wrong," Cameron said as they all monitored the MRI scanner.

"Cutting House off? It won't work but it's not wrong." Foreman responded.

"Bone windows look clean." Chase really didn't want to talk about this with them. It's like he had this awkward conflict of interested now. Talking about House behind his back didn't really have the fun aspect it used to have.

Foreman called through the microphone to ask Abigail, the young patient, to stay still.

"Because it's effective doesn't make it right." Cameron wouldn't let something go once she thought it was wrong.

"Cuddy's bending the rules to get a patient to do the right thing, who'd work for a doctor like that?"

"And the ends justify the means?"

"Maybe rehab could be good for him," Chase's musings were out of his mouth before he could stop them.

"Right, but a person has to consent to go to rehab."

"I'm not saying Cuddy is right, and House has always done fine..."

"Yeah, so far," Foreman countered.

Chase flicked his eyes back to the screen. "Lung parenchyma's is clean, no masses. It's not lung cancer."

Abigail started coughing and when she didn't answer Foreman they rushed through to find her crawling out of the MRI scanner, her hands cupped around her mouth to catch the blood pooling from it.

\-----

"House was right," Foreman informed Cuddy. "Her liver's failing."

"Endoscopy confirmed the vomiting was caused by variceal bleeding." Chase added. "Blood work also confirms House's hypothesis-"

"I get it, House was right it's the liver, lets move on. What causes liver disease and a collapsed lung?" How could she just stand there so calmly while House's leg was probably starting to set fire to itself?

"Schistosomiasis, parasite could-"

"There's no eosinophilia." Chase countered.

"Cirrhosis could explain-"

"Could be a hepatoma," Oh yeah, Wilson was here too. Chase didn't let himself look at him lest he also be reprimanded for punching a colleague in the face.

"She's 15, it's not liver cancer," Cameron snapped back at him.

"It's not unheard of."

"Cirrhosis fits better; the question is what caused it."

Chase felt like a coward for not standing up more. He wanted to, but what good would it do? He didn't want to lose his job? Fuck, that was selfish. But if he defended House more than usual would anyone suspect what was going on?

"Could be hepatitis, Budd-Chiari-" Foreman suggested.

"Or drugs and alcohol. If anyone has a reason to dull the pain it's a teenaged dwarf," Chase offered up, the least they could do is act as if House was here telling them to do their jobs.

"I'll do a liver biopsy to confirm."

"And I'll search the patient's home for drugs and alcohol."

He and Foreman left the room and Chase saw Wilson corner Cameron.

"Do you think she's overreacting?" Chase asked.

"About House getting cut of from vicodin?"

"No, about Wilson ratting on House."

Foreman shook his head. "I think House needs to know when to stop, but I also think we need him."

"Yeah, right..." Chase wasn't really listening anymore. He watched as Wilson lead Cameron into an empty clinic room and shut the door behind them.

\-----

"Santa's got gifts," Chase said, paraphrasing House's greeting from earlier, and started taking what he'd found from Abigail's home out of his bag. "Olive oil wasn't in the kitchen; it was in the medicine cabinet."

"Home remedy for ear infections," Foreman explained.

"Ear infections are fairly typical amongst CHH dwarfs." Cameron added.

"Or it's a symptom," Chase countered.

"It certainly wouldn't indicate a pancreatic problem."

"Or House is wrong and it's a symptom," Chase repeated and Foreman went to write it onto the board. Chase continued taking things out of his bag. "Laxatives, don't think they were used to maintain her girlish figure."

"Again, intestinal problems are common," Cameron fought back.

"Again, might be a symptom." Chase could feel himself slipping and losing patience.

"Who ordered an alpha-one antitrypsin deficiency test?" Cuddy was back, with the traitor behind her.

"I did," Foreman admitted.

"You think the problem's in her pancreas?"

"I think it will be, I think we need to forget about the liver."

"We just forgot about the lungs, now we need to forget about the liver?"

"We need to stop retracing our steps and get ahead of this thing."

Cuddy and Wilson turned to each other and shared a knowing look and if Chase was friends with either of them he would have shared it with them too. Foreman had been talking to House. House was willing to spill information to Foreman. This was really not the time to get jealous but Chase couldn't help it. He was stressed, anxious, and his partner might be going to jail any day now.

"You suspended House because it'd be dangerous having him in charge but getting his opinion-"

"I'm sure he gave you that opinion simply because he was worried about the patient?" Wilson chimed in.

"Just because House wants his pills doesn't mean his theory is wrong."

"No, the test results mean that. Your test was negative. And the biopsy indicated severe duct inflammation. Do an ERCP to check the liver for bile duct cancer."

"Just because it wasn't alpha-one doesn't mean the pancreas isn't next."

"You needed an organ, he needed a fix. He'd have made up any story for a pill, you didn't give him anything did you?"

After their talk earlier Chase wasn't sure what the truth would be. He also realised he wasn't sure what he would prefer. No, he did. House out of pain beats House in agonising pain every time.

"No," Foreman said. Probably not for lack of trying on House's part, but Foreman seemed to be telling the truth.

\-----

Chase ducked out of the lab to get some space away from everyone else. Cameron and Foreman were making his head swim with thoughts about House breaking down, and Cuddy and Wilson were making his head swim with thoughts about House going to jail. Sure they had a patient, but Chase didn't feel above hiding out in the lounge for a bit. Or House's office. Or... wherever House was, because he wasn't in his office.

Chase felt his phone buzz through his jean's pocket.

_[House] Did you know we're not the only hospital that carries vicodin? Who knew?_

Chase sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose and hoped that didn't mean what he thought it did.

_[Chase] No way, how'd you figure that one out?_

_[House] Some asshole at Morebrook General wouldn't give me any._

Oh thank Christ he hadn't got any. But it hadn't been that long into the day and House was already faking illnesses to get pills...

"Chase," Cameron poked her head around the door. "Results are back," And she walked off leaving Chase to follow after her.

_[Chase] Go home and rest._

\-----

Chase slipped into House's apartment as quietly as he could in case House was sleeping. There was no sign of him, but he could hear a dull pounding noise. He entered the bedroom to find House laying on his back spread out like a starfish, his left hand drooped off the bed and was around his cane, currently banging it against the floor.

"Hey," Chase said softly, leaning against the door frame.

"Didn't think you'd come here tonight."

"Why wouldn't I?"

"I've nothing to give," House let the cane fall out of his hand and clatter against the floor.

"Why do I suddenly have to only be coming by when I want something?"

"Everyone always wants something."

"I don't want anything _from_ you," Chase moved to sit on the edge of the bed. "I want to help."

"I'm not an invalid."

"No, but you're in pain."

"You're pathetic."

"Because I care about your pain?"

"Because you think you can help it."

"I've not done a terrible job so far, have I?" House didn't answer. Chase knew what this was, it was a mix of the detox talking, and House trying to push him to see if he'd freak out and decide he couldn't handle having a partner with chronic pain and a piece of his thigh muscle missing. But Chase wasn't planning on going anywhere.

He moved towards House but House flinched and pulled his body away. When he was going through a mood swing like this they'd learnt it was best to just let it ware off.

"I'll sleep on the couch." Chase said. House replied in only a grunt.

\-----

Chase filed in after the others, all now gathered in Cuddy's office. She looked dejected. This wasn't going to be good.

"I went to see House," She said and Chase perked up. She must have stopped by before Chase got back home. "And he won't help."

"He's not going to let the girl die just because you won't give him his pills," Wilson said.

Wait had Chase just called the apartment 'home'?

"Really? Because that's exactly what he said before he slammed the door in my face and here we all are."

"So... you're giving him the pills?" Chase tentatively asked.

"No."

"So we're risking sacrificing a child?" Foreman asked but it wasn't really a question.

"What if we sacrifice this girl and House still goes to jail?" Cameron asked.

"I'd feel bad, can we get on with this? House correctly predicted the spread, means we've got a global systemic illness affecting lungs, liver and pancreas so far." Cuddy waved her hands at them all. "Ideas?"

"Langerhans cell histiocytosis attacks multiple organ systems," Chase offered.

"Histiocytosis usually starts in the brain then moves to the internal organs. Abigail's brain is fine. Cystic fibrosis," Was Foreman's suggestion.

"Exocrine function's normal," Wilson pointed out and Chase glared at him. "Hodgkin's lymphoma, it's a systemic cancer which her dwarfism predisposes her to."

"Any ideas that aren't cancer?" Cameron bit.

"Cancer fits."

"Autoimmune fits better, we should treat her with prednisone for lupus."

"That'll spike her blood sugar and put her back in a coma. It's much safer to run a double-stranded DNA test."

"Not if she dies before we get the results."

"One of you is probably right, why don't we hold the sniping until we find out which." Cuddy sighed. "Wilson, do an LP for lymphoma, you guys run an antibody test for lupus."

\-----

The girl's mother was right, they had no idea what was wrong with their daughter. But when did they ever without House around to help? Cameron had said she would go over to get his advice, but Chase insisted he go instead. This way he could accomplish two things, hopefully get some insight on what was wrong with Abigail and get to see how his boyfriend... how his partner was doing. Yeah, boyfriend still sounded weird, it made House sound like he was thirteen and not twenty years older than him. Cameron had really tried to insist before he told her that Wilson was going to tell Abigail's mother that Abigail had cancer (he wasn't) and that was all it took to get Cameron storming off and Chase snuck out of the hospital.

He almost stopped to knock on the door before he remembered House had given him a spare key a few weeks ago. While the relationship wasn't feeling that new anymore (which was good, Chase liked that the relationship was feeling normal and comfortable) certain things were developing and changing and Chase didn't want to get too excited but House had given him a key after all.

"Don't you knock?" House was sat on the sofa, slouched with his head lolling off the back of it.

"Why would I knock when I have a key..." As Chase spoke House pulled his head up and Chase was greeted by an incredibly pale face with eyes that were puffy and red and a good layer of sweat that was matting his hair to his head. "Oh god," And he was shutting the door and throwing his things down and pressing a knee between House's to lean over him. He cupped House's face in his hands, and then moved one of them to press it against House's forehead.

"The fact that you threw your bag on the floor makes me think you haven't brought me vicodin."

"I, I couldn't. House, you know I don't want you in pain, but you need to try and fight this, the withdrawal I mean, but also Tritter. He sees you like this, the court sees you like this, and you're proving him right."

"So that's no vicodin."

"No."

"Pity, could have helped with the pain in my arm."

"The pain in your-? What did you do?!" Chase could feel his voice rising in pitch in his panicked shout and knew House was laughing inside his head at him, but all he could think about was the tea towel draped over House's arm that had red seeping through it. Gingerly, Chase lifted the towel and House hissed. There were two maybe three cuts along his arm, it was hard to tell with all the blood running out of them.

"I'll get the first aid kit." Chase stood up and made his way out of the room.

"It's in the bathroom, cup-

"-board above the sink, top shelf, left corner." By the time he'd finished off the sentence he had the kit in his hands and made his way back to House.

"You haven't been sneaking in here while I've been out, have you?"

"Surprisingly, after all the nights I've spent here, I can remember where things are."

Chase started cleaning the cuts on House's arm. Wiping away the blood revealed there were three cuts on his arm, they thankfully wouldn't need stitches. He grabbed a clean piece of cloth and dabbed away the remaining blood around the cuts, the dried blood around his cuts. "How long have you been quietly bleeding out for?"

"Oh, not long before you got here."

"And were you going to do anything other put a towel over them? Did the withdrawal not only make you forget all your years as a doctor and medical school, but also basic first aid that any child would know?" Chase snapped.

House didn't respond, just looked away from Chase like he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't. Well of course he shouldn't be letting himself bleed everywhere and he shouldn't have just sat there without a bandage on. As the wounds were finally clearer to see as Chase finished cleaning them his stomach sank as he realised House wasn't bothered about being caught doing either of those things. The cuts were straight, sharp, precise.

"House..." Chase's voice was shaking. "These cuts are..." He looked up at House who was just staring into his lap. What no denial? No telling Chase it was none of his business? Was he actually bothered Chase had caught him like this. "You did this to yourself."

"Obviously, no one broke in here and-"

"On purpose!"

Chase knew he was gripping House's forearm too tightly as he shook and tried to calm himself down. He looked at House, took in once again the pathetic state he was in, but also how he was avoiding meeting his gaze. He couldn't get angry, that wasn't going to help anything. He knew House could be headed for depression but he felt like an idiot for not noticing sooner. How could he not notice?! He was supposed to care! He'd partly taken those days off to keep an eye on House at look at what a lousy job he'd done.

"The cutting... releases endorphines, endorphines relieve pain."

"Yeah... I know why people self-harm, House."

"Right, pretty, rich boy like you-"

"You think I got through being left to take care of my mother while she drank herself to death and took everything out on me without-" Chase cut himself off. He was starting to yell and there were tears prickling at the corner of his eyes. He took a deep breath. "There's other ways to deal with pain."

"Yes, there is, it's called vicodin, but seeing as we're out of that-

"Please," House finally met his eyes and Chase was aware his own eyes felt wet and House seemed to twinge at staring into them and Chase hoped it was a show of some emotion. “Please, stop,” Chase’s hand smoothed over the bandage he'd just applied and stroked down his arm until he held House’s hand and kissed the inside of his wrist. He heard House's breath shaking.

"Alright, no cutting."

"And no messing with the bandage. No hurting yourself at all, do you understand," House looked shocked at the dominance Chase managed to lace through his voice. "Do you understand?"

House nodded and dropped his gaze again and Chase put both his hands around House's and shifted on his knees to a slightly more comfortable position.

"It hurts," House croaked out and Chase thought he might have imagined House speaking but he looked up and House's head was bowed even lower, hiding most of his face, and he was gripping Chase's hand an awful lot tighter.

"I know," It wasn't helpful but what else could Chase say? He couldn't do anything to help with the pain. He reached up and stroked House's hair, feeling guilty as he remembered the other reason why he'd come here in the first place. Shit, he had to get back to work. Perhaps the distraction at least could help? "

"Wilson was wrong," House's head perked up a little. "She's not losing any weight, no night sweats. It's not lymphoma."

"Autoimmune fits better than cancer but lupus floods the kidneys, usually attacks then first. The kidney's are fine, right?"

"At the moment, yeah."

"She been sick lately?"

"Nothing other than ear infections." Chase watched the cogs turn in House's head. At least he was focusing on something other than his pain.

"Ear infection comes into her immune system like a shy guy at a bar, he.. Fuck the metaphor, the infection caused the autoimmunes to be triggered. Factor in her age, elevated sed rate, anaemia... It's Still's disease. Start her on prednisone, methotrexates, cyclosporin," He tilted his head to the side as he stared as Chase. "And with that you should go, you know do what I just said, can't do that from down there, as much as I like seeing you on your knees."

Chase sighed and got up, standing over House. He wasn't sure he could trust House to not hurt himself, and he wasn't sure he'd be able to forgive himself if he trusted House and House did something worse than cut himself.

"You should come back into work. Not to work, mind you, just... I'd rather you wallow where I can keep a close eye on you."

"I'll be fine, you need to get to your patient before she gets any worse."

"House."

"Maybe tomorrow," Chase didn't move. "Go or I'll turn the knife on you," House tried to joke but Chase couldn't laugh no matter how hard he tried.

This was probably a terrible decision, but of course House was right to send him back to work. House just better actually show up behind him.

\-----

Cuddy was waiting for him when he arrived back at the hospital. Cameron must have told her.

"What did he say?"

"Still's disease."

"Great, something that's virtually unconfirmable. And with a treatment more dangerous than what we were considering for lupus." She paused, frustration fading from her voice. "How bad is he?"

"You don't trust his opinion or you actually are about his well-being?" Chase tried to keep the venom out of his voice.

"Both."

"He's started self-harming. He's cutting himself." At least she had the decency to look sad. "Other than that, his intelligence isn't impaired."

"I'll order the treatment," She said but Chase was already walking away.

\-----

"What time is it?" House groaned out as he finally woke up.

"About twenty past eleven," Chase replied. "PM, I don't know when you fell asleep."

When Chase had got back to the apartment, House had seemingly managed to drag himself from the sofa and instantly collapse onto the bed given the awkward sprawled position Chase had found him in. House hadn't woken as Chase had pushed all of House's limbs onto the bed and thrown a blanket over him because he was not going to attempt picking House up to be able to retrieve the covers he'd crushed underneath him.

"Your arm sting?"

"I'll live. Cameron offered you make-up to cover up that bruise yet?"

"Who says I don't own my own make-up?" Chase bat back and House looked surprised for a second and let out a short, weak laugh. Chase would take that.

"I'm thinking about coming back in tomorrow," House said after they'd both sat there in a comfortable silence for a while.

"To work?"

"Maybe, more so to parade my new, sad existence in front of Cuddy and Wilson."

"You're not going to tire yourself out?"

"No, Nurse Chase, I'll be fine."

"You imagining me in a nurse's uniform?"

"Ooo," House moaned, the pervert, and laughed. "You're good. Almost got me with the deflect there."

"Almost? I need to turn it up a notch? How's about you take better care of yourself and I buy myself some cheap Halloween nurse costume, one of those one's they have to call 'sassy' now instead of 'sexy'?"

"You drive a hard bargain, Chase..." House was already drifting back off and Chase at least managed to maneuver him off the covers so he could be properly in bed.

"Good night, House."

\-----

Wilson told Cuddy who told Cameron who told Chase and Foreman and so Chase knew House was in the building within fifteen minutes of his arrival.

What was he thinking coming in? Okay so Chase hadn't really tried to put his foot down, but House had woken up at about four AM and had been puking once at least in every hour since. Chase had to finish administrating drugs to Abigail, and then he'd go and find House. Luckily, even though he didn't trust Wilson right now, he probably wouldn't let House wander out of the hospital on his own.

Chase found House in his office, curled inwards and laying on his side on the small, leather sofa. He was sweating so much Chase could see he was sticking to it.

"Lift up," Chase tapped the top of House's head and his head, very sluggishly, rose just enough for Chase to slip under it. "Anything you want to tell me?"

"You have soft hands."

"What did you do to Wilson?"

"What did _I_ do to Wilson? Have you forgotten that it was he who-"

"Not to him then, but you've done something and he knows about it. Something you hadn't done before you left the house this morning despite saying you weren't going to come in when I left this morning."

"Of course I was going to come in, I just didn't tell you."

"I could have driven you in."

"I got a cab just fine."

"House, I can help, just let me help you."

"It was a lot more dramatic though, hobbling in on my own."

"Are you even listening to me? Let me help you, I want to help you." Chase fought not to shout.

"I'm going to the bathroom. And no, I don't need you to help me." House pushed himself up and Chase let him walk away.

"Fine. But you keep going this way and you're going to get yourself into a position where you need someone to help you, and no one's going to be there." He stormed out pushing past House, let the bastard fend for himself.

Though in the back of his mind Chase knew he'd be cooling off for a bit and then come crawling back to House's apartment again tonight.

\-----

The treatment wasn't working, House was wrong. It happened now and again, but he knew Cuddy was looking at him thinking he was an idiot for trusting anything House said in his current condition.

"Bleeding wasn't a ruptured eardrum, ear infection, or bleeding disorder. Her heart rate's climbing, blood pressure's dropping, she’s on the verge of a multi system failure," But this could also have been avoided if Cuddy hadn't taken his damn vicadin away in the first place.

Everyone else kept talking and Chase was trying his best to pay attention. The conversation once again ended with Cameron and Wilson sniping at each other.

"All we're doing is bouncing back and forth between cancer and autoimmune. We're going in circles," Foreman was right, but they had not other ideas.

They all looked at Cuddy.

"Give me half an hour."

\-----

For two people who were currently bickering, Cameron and WIlson sure were sharing a lot of information.

House had found himself some pills. Or bribed someone, or stolen them, who knew what he was above doing at this point. If he was still smart enough to be careful then he'd have found some way to get them from the pharmacy, and if he'd gotten them from the pharmacy and still had basic brain functions he wouldn't have asked for vicodin. If he'd asked for a prescription for vicodin he may as well have 'I'm a grumpy addict who won't take help from people who care about me because I know what's best and no one could truly care about me because people lie' tattooed across his forehead. Imagine the font was really small.

Cameron and Foreman had asked him to go for a drink with them, what with it being Christmas Eve and all. Honestly in all the drama lately Chase had sort of forgotten. He'd gotten something for House but he was pretty sure anything that wasn't vicodin shaped wasn't going to be accepted by him right now. He took a peak at House's office and saw him talking with Wilson. House had people other than him. And besides, he didn't want Chase's help did he.

"Guys, wait up!" Cameron and Foreman turned around. "I'll come for that drink after all."

\-----

Chase ended up on barely drinking anything, not even enough to class him as 'slightly tipsy'. How pathetic. Every time he tried he just thought of House and what state he'd be in when he got back and if he was drunk and House was out of it, how were they going to work?

He'd been walking with his head down, House lived on a aground floor apartment and he knew the way well enough by now...

"Chase?"

And it usually didn't come with a James Wilson attached to it.

Wilson was stood right outside the front door to the ground floor apartments.

"I, uh, I was just-"

"I know you're sleeping with House."

"I'm, we're not-"

"Or more than sleeping, whatever, I'm happy for you," He seemed panicked. "An ambulance is on it's way."

"An-" Chase cut himself off this time. "Okay I'm going to need way more information."

"He found more pills, dammit I should have checked again."

"Wilson?"

"He's overdosed on oxycodone. Not intentionally, he's not trying to commit suicide, he's just goddamn idiot who doesn't think 'do not exceed four pills per day' wouldn't apply to him."

"Where is he?" Chase said, already pushing past Wilson and making his way into the apartment. "Oh god."

\-----

Turns out House ODing on pain medication was way more terrifying than House being shot. At least with bullets you could find them and dig them out and stitch him back together. With overdoses you just had to wait and hope that he'd wake up, and that he'd wake up the same. Chase was also holding out hope that Wilson was right, that House didn't do this on purpose.

Over the course of the two of them trading off positions at House's bedside his anger towards Wilson had faded. Ultimately, Chase knew he was a good man, and he was so fucking thankful that he'd gone and checked on House. Imagine if he hadn't. Imagine if House had been laying there until Chase came back in. Imagine Chase had drank more and not been able to function enough to call am ambulance. Imagine if-

"Chase! Chase, I need you to breathe with me. It's alright. You're alright. House is going to be alright." Wilson was suddenly in front of him and had grabbed hold of both of Chase's elbows. "Breathe with me Chase okay, that's it, nice, long, deep breaths."

He wasn't quite sure why he needed to follow Wilson's breathing but everything seemed to be an assault to his senses and he realised his heart was pounding and his lungs felt sore and he focused on breathing in time with Wilson. "What...?"

"You had a panic attack."

"Oh."

Wilson loosened his grip, but kept his hands on Chase. "He's going to be fine. He's House. The only pain he's got to experience now is the same old one from his leg, and the headache he's going to get when we yell at him when he wakes up," He smiled and Chase appreciated what he was trying to do, but it wasn't working.

"I'm gonna stay here."

"Chase, you need to sleep.

"Can sleep just fine here." He let his body relax against the chair and focused putting all of his energy into staring at Wilson who sighed.

"We're both two tired for me to argue with you, fine. Sleep here. I'm going to go sleep in a bed. If he wakes up and I'm not here, will you text me?"

"Course."

"Thanks," Wilson started to leave. "Oh, and Chase, he's been a lot better overall since you two started seeing each other. He likes you. Don't let him push you away too easily."

"I won't."

It took all of about five minutes before Chase had to close his eyes, just for a moment.

\-----

The first thing Chase became aware of when he woke up was there was a persistent prodding on his chest. Either someone was poking him with something or this was a remarkably calm heart attack.

He blinked his eyes open and blue ones greeted him. He lurched forwards without thinking and was stopped by said prodding object.

"Who gave you your cane back?"

"Is it so hard to believe some of the nurses here have crushes on me?" That was House, that was him, sounding like himself. Chase grabbed the cane out of House's currently weakened grip and tossed it onto the floor.

"Careful, I may be wrong, but I think some of these tubes and wires are important," House said as Chase buried his face in House's neck. He didn't care if any of the nurses saw them. He didn't care much abut anything other than the fact that House was okay.

"You're an utter bastard, you know that."

"Yeah, I know."

"I love you."

"Chase..."

"If you can't or won't say it back yet, don't say anything. Unless you've suddenly decided you're not interested in me and you want me to leave you," He pulled back to look at House. "No?" House looked down and shook his head. "Good. God I can't fucking believe you. What won't you do House? Stealing medicine from the dead now is it?"

"You know?"

"Wilson told me. But you do realise if anyone else figures this out that's a pretty big nail in your coffin."

House huffed and made a show of forcefully planting his head back into the pillow. Chase put his hand next to House's, close enough that if House wanted to he could initiate the contact.

“You’re not disappointed I wrote a prescription out for a dead man?”

Chase sighed.

“I’m not surprised. I should probably be, what does that say about each of us... And I’m not… I don’t like that you’re in pain. I don’t like that you’re an addict. I’m fucking scared you’re going to go to jail, alright? What I like is you not cutting yourself and not thinking about trying to overdose on oxy so frankly I think I’d be fucking relieved if you had vicodin right now, as bad as that sounds, I’d rather you be addicted to vicodin than in a morgue!” Chase sat himself back down from when he’d stood up in anger in the middle of his yelling. He sank into the chair. “What disappoints me the most is that I don’t know how to help you without enabling you."

"...The vicodin helps."

"I know."

"I can manage the vicodin."

"I know." _(I think)_.

"This wasn't your fault, Chase."

"But I could have stopped it from getting this far!"

"I wouldn't let you help me."

"If I hadn't had gone out with the others-"

"Chase stop!" He'd made the first move, he was gripping Chase's hand so hard it was almost painful, but that was good, it was grounding. "None of this is your fault. I was plenty fucked up enough before you got together with me. If anything, you being here only did good, by which I mean stopping me from doing anything more stupid any earlier."

"But you still did this."

House's griped softened. "I wasn't trying to kill myself."

"Says the man with self-inflicted scars on his arm."

House's hand left his own and was sliding up and then was in his hair and Chase was suddenly very hyper aware that he was crying.

"Just let me help you," He looked up at House with the biggest, wateriest, puppy dog eyes he could muster up. "If I fuck up then I fuck up. But can you at least acknowledge that I'm here, I want to stay, I'm not going anywhere, so if anything you've got a free body here to delegate personal needs and wants onto, and luckily that body belongs to someone who cares about you too much."

"I'm not an easy man to help."

"No shit."

Chase leaned back in the chair, letting House's hand fall from his head. He listened to House's breathing and the hum of the fluorescent lights. He reached into his pocket for his phone to text Wilson.

"I suppose you can't mess it up more than I already have. Helping me, that is."

Chase started to smile. "I'm just asking for a chance. If I fail, I fail." He reached a hand out to group House's chin and turned his head towards him. "And I won't fail."

House let him have the moment for all of five seconds before- "Did you ask Santa for a backbone for Christmas?"

Chase so wanted to punch him.

"Maybe I already have what I want," He let his eyes bore into House so House couldn't pretend to not know what he meant. "Merry Christmas, House."

House was quiet for a moment.

"Merry Christmas, Chase."

**Author's Note:**

> posting this today but i did write it yesterday, meaning yesterday day i wrote 14k words of chase/house content. thats insane. thank you youtube for randomly recommending me house clips to make me curious enough to finally watch the show. i didn't think id actually be able to catch up on nanowrimo but now i actually have a shot at getting to 50k.


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